


One For Every Minute of The Day

by booksaremyreality



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Beaches, Car rides, Detroit, Domestic Fluff, Drunk Kisses, Fluff, Forehead Kisses, Grinding, Hickeys, Injury, Kisses, M/M, Morning Kisses, New York City, POV Outsider, Pet Names, Playful kisses, Popcorn, Romance, Sexual Content, Sleepy Kisses, Strip Tease, Sunrises, Taxis, Teasing, figure skating, movies - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2018-08-30 09:38:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 7,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8528143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/booksaremyreality/pseuds/booksaremyreality
Summary: “The sunlight claps the earth, and the moonbeams kiss the sea: what are all these kissings worth, if thou kiss not me?” ― Percy Bysshe Shelleya.k.a a fic about all the different types of kisses.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I started college this past august and have been so busy this is my first time writing since I've started school. I'm a little rusty but it feels good to be writing again, please enjoy this little ficlet.

Yuuri pants softly, letting the cold ice rink air fill his lungs as his cheeks and forehead burn and sweat from exertion. What he did in China was good, great even but he only wants to be better. He wants Viktor to want him, now and forever. _You’re mine_ , Yuuri thinks almost viciously to himself, watching Viktor jump up and down happily at the edge of the rink after Yuuri near perfectly lands all of his quads. Makkachin barks happily, not quite sure what’s going on but excited nonetheless.

“Come here, Yuuri,” Viktor coos, stretching his wool-jacket clad arms out towards him. Yuuri drifts over, hands and arms trembling slightly, from what he isn’t exactly sure. Everything below his waist aches and pulses fiercely, crying out for him to take a break and his shirt sticks to his skin with sweat. All he really wants to do is shower and soak in the family onsen but Viktor has such an eager look on his face and well, Yuuri’s never been able to deny Viktor anything. He slowly wraps his arms around Victor’s trim waist, pressing his face into his shoulder. The edge of the wall digs into his hipbones but he ignores it in favor of Victor's warm embrace. Viktor in turn winds one arm around his shoulder and lifts the other to cup the back of Yuuri’s head with his large hand, ignoring his no doubt sweat soaked skin.

Something tight unwinds in Yuuri’s chest whenever he’s near Viktor, finally allowing him to breath. Viktor presses his lips to Yuuri’s clammy temple, over and over again murmuring how proud he is of Yuuri and how much of a good job he did.

“Arigato, Viktor.” As tired as he is, he slips back into his mother tongue, forgetting that Viktor doesn’t speak Japanese.

“Oh, I know that word! That was Japanese for ‘thank you’, yes?” Yuuri, barely coherent enough to respond, just nods, breathing in the uniquely comforting scent of Viktor’s cologne.

“Well, Пожалуйста, счастье.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “A kiss is a secret which takes the lips for the ear.” ― Edmond Rostand

If Viktor has one weakness, it is most certainly his neck; Yuuri discovers this fact by accident. On a blessedly quiet Thursday evening, Yuuri and Viktor are wrapped around in each other in Yuuri’s slim childhood bed. They’d started off watching some American tv show that Viktor loves but that eventually devolved into slow making out. Yuuri presses their lips together sweetly, reveling in the little breath Viktor intakes through his nose, before humming and kissing him back harder. Yuuri can’t keep his hands in one place, the need to touch Viktor all over too strong. He slips one hand behind Victor’s neck, caressing the short gray hairs at his nape.

Viktor breaks away with a gasp, squirming away from his fingers. Yuuri pulls back with a concerned look.

“You do not like it?”

“It’s not that …”

“Ah! Are you ticklish, Viktor?” Yuuri asks with a smile, wiggling his fingers threateningly.

“No, not exactly… I think, hm how to properly say this … I think that I like it too much?”

Understanding dawns on Yuuri’s face.

“Oh Viktor” Yuuri purrs, “does it turn you on, when I touch you there?” He rubs a rough thumb against Viktor’s open lips, feeling the wet tip of his tongue. Viktor opens his mouth wider, pulling Yuuri’s thumb into his mouth. It’s like there’s a direct line from his thumb to his dick, and Yuuri is instantly half hard. Viktor’s cheeks sink in as he sucks on the thumb in his mouth, moaning throatily. Yuuri uses the thumb to gently guide Viktor’s head to the side, exposing the flushed skin of his neck. His back arches as he leans down to press a soft kiss to Viktor’s neck. Immediately, Viktor shivers, back arching so that his chest presses into Yuuri’s. Yuuri can feel his nipple pebbling through his thin shirt.

Yuuri drags his teeth down the side of Viktor’s neck while slipping his hand into Viktor’s hair to keep his head still. He seals his lips around his skin, sucking with the intent to bruise.

“Fuck, _Yuuri!_ ” Viktor exclaims. Yuuri can feel Viktor’s cock jump against his own thigh, and he can’t even begin to describe how unbelievably hot that is. His pushes his hips into Victor’s in response, desperate for the friction. Both of Viktor’s hands grip Yuuri’s ass, encouraging him to grind harder. Finally satisfied with the mark he’s left, he pulls away with a lewd pop and moves up to kiss behind Viktor’s ear.

“Oh Fuck, твой рот, Yura, я сейчас кончу,” Viktor babbles in Russian, rocking under Yuuri’s ministrations. Yuuri laughs delightedly in response, pressing quick kisses under his chin and up to his lips. He reaches between their bodies and palms Viktor’s cock, and then it’s over. Viktor comes in a burst of Russian expletives, gripping tightening on Yuuri’s ass as all of his muscles tense up.

Eventually Viktor comes down from his high, panting slightly and eyelids fluttering. Yuuri folds his hands on Viktor’s chest and rests his chin on them, looking smugly up at Viktor.

“You are a menace, Yura.”

“Yes, but you love it.”

Viktor pulls Yuuri up to press a tender kiss to his lips. “Безоговорочно.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> translations-  
> твой рот: your mouth  
> я сейчас кончу: I'm going to come  
> Безоговорочно: unconditionally


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “All I want in this life are three...  
> a moonlit beach on the starlit sea,  
> a breath of opium,  
> and thee.”  
> ― Roman Payne

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> using dramatic quotes for plotless drabbles is my aesthetic.

Viktor can tell that Yuuri’s been distracted all morning. He has dark, puffy bags under his eyes and he can’t seem to focus on anything Viktor says to him. His moves have been sloppy at best. Viktor is about to call the practice to an end just as Yuuri flies into a quad salchow. However he can’t quite his leg under the rest of his body and he hits the ice with a dull smack. Viktor’s heart leaps into his throat and before he can think about it he’s leapt over the side wall and made his way over to Yuuri’s prone form.

“Yuuri!” He calls, sliding to his knees. Yuuri groans and rolls onto his back, pressing a gloved hand to his forehead.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Yuuri groans, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. Viktor crosses his legs, ignoring the cold ice against his butt, and gently lifts Yuuri into his lap. He cups the back of Yuuri’s head feeling for any bumps, then pulls out a small penlight and shines it in both of his eyes.

“Your pupils are responding normally.”

Yuuri takes a few shaky breaths and tries to sit up, whining high in his throat.

“Come, we have to get you to a hospital to make sure you do not have a concussion.” Viktor scoops his arms under Yuuri’s armpits to try to lift him, but Yuuri squirms away with a moan.

“Ie, Vicchan, uun, boku, daijoubu da.” Viktor can’t help but smile at the unconscious nickname, helping him skate over to the wall. Yuuri leans on his forearms against the rigid plastic, taking a few deep breaths to clear his head.

“Yuuri, please, we have to have someone look at your head.”

“No, no, no, Viktor, I’m okay. I’ve had concussions before, I know what they feel like. The pain is almost gone.” Viktor eyes Yuuri up and down, watching as his eyes get clearer and clearer. Choosing to believe Yuuri, he lets it drop but pulls him close, pressing his lips softly between his eyebrows.

“Do not scare me like that, Yuuri.”

“I’m sorry, Viktor. To be honest I haven’t been sleeping well, can … can I have the rest of the day off?”

“Of course you can.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> translations:  
> Ie, Vicchan, watashi wa daijōbudesu-no, victor, I am fine.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Make me immortal with a kiss.” ― Christopher Marlowe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bc i am ever the laziest writer, i have not read over it. feel free to point out any mistakes.

They decide to spend Sunday evening in, basking in the warmth given off by each other’s bodies. The quiet cold outside only amplifies the interior, everything hanging in a delicate balance as if the slightest touch could break their sanctuary. Yuuri slowly threads his fingers through Viktor’s silken hair, the pads of his fingertips rubbing against the older man’s scalp. Viktor hums wordlessly and tightens his hold around Yuuri, burying his nose further into the skin exposed by Yuuri’s oversized sweater.

“It is getting long, are you going to cut it soon?” Yuuri asks.

“I do not think so, no. I might grow it out.” The vibrations from Viktor’s words raise goosebumps on Yuuri’s skin.

“Mm, finally give me something to grab onto.” The younger man smirks and tugs playfully at the gray strands.

“Tease!”

Yuuri giggles and pulls all of the hair back, exposing Viktor’s rather larger forehead. “I feel like I’ve never seen both of your eyes at the same time,” The younger man says, rubbing his thumb between said eyes.

Viktor clicks his teeth, “Do not get fresh with me, Yura.” Yuuri giggles again and cranes his neck down to give Viktor a quick kiss. Suddenly, Viktor pulls away, lifting the hem of Yuuri’s sweater and squirming his way under it.

“Viktor, what are you doing?” He rubs his cheek up against the flushed warmth of Yuuri’s stomach.

“I am much more comfortable under here.”

Yuuri pats his shoulder. “You are being ridiculous, Viktor, get out from under there.” But Viktor can hear the smile in his voice.

“No,” He pouts, digging his chin into Yuuri’s belly button. He then rolls his head forward to press little kisses all over.

“You know that I am not ticklish,” Yuuri chides, having resigned to his fate as Viktor’s new hat.

“I know, I just want to kiss you.” Viktor abruptly pushes up the fabric of the sweater, bunching it around his armpits. “Watch me kiss you, Yuuri!” Viktor cries, then proceeds to kiss all over his chest and stomach, making sure to make ridiculous noises as he did so.

Yuuri can’t help but smile fondly at the older man.

“You silly man.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> constructive criticism welcome


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The sound of a kiss is not as strong as that of a cannon, but its echo endures much longer.”   
> ― Richard Paul Evans, The Last Promise

“What are we watching?” Yuuri asks, plopping down besides Viktor with a bowl of freshly popped, buttery popcorn. Yuuri’s skin feels slightly raw against the worn cotton of Viktor’s old sweatshirt, the heat of his shower having easily scrubbed off several layers of skin. Viktor slouches down into the younger man’s side, just up under his armpit, and lets his legs hang off the edge of the couch for Makkachin to sniff at curiously. He reaches up to grab a handful of popcorn, stuffing it into his mouth, then rubs his greasy fingers all over the remote in order to press play. Yuuri quickly recognizes the opening scene of Viktor’s favorite American movie,  _ How To Train Your Dragon _ . The black haired male roles his eyes to himself but settles in for a night of half muttered, memorized lines accompanied by albeit beautiful animation. 

Yuuri slouches further down so that his heels can rest properly on their table that doubles as a footrest, adjusting Viktor’s head with his right elbow so he more rested on the front of Yuuri’s ribs than the side. Yuuri doesn’t really focus on the movie, instead choosing to stare at Viktor’s childishly enraptured face. He looks at his slick, slightly parted lips and wide blue eyes framed by thick lashes. Unthinkingly, Yuuri puts the bowl of popcorn on the floor and bends down to capture the older man’s lips in his own. 

Viktor makes a noise of surprise but doesn’t push him away, smiling a little at the awkward position of their lips. Yuuri squirms out from under Viktor only to climb back on top of him, laying his slighter body flush against Viktor’s taller, broader one. He swoops down again, with a fervor that honestly both males were surprised by. But Viktor is nothing if not indulgent, so he accepts Yuuri’s voraciousness with open arms–and lips–, sucking Yuuri’s bottom lip into his mouth and teasing it with his teeth. Yuuri moans lowly, hips moving idly against Viktor’s. The gray haired male pulls back a few centimeters with a fond, even doting, expression on his face. 

“But Yura, what about the movie?” 

“Fuck it, you can recite the whole script in your sleep. Just kiss me. Please.” 

And truthfully, it’s the please that does him in. 

Viktor slides his frankly ice like hands under Yuuri’s sweatshirt and up against his skin, humming delightedly at Yuuri’s squeak of surprise. 

“It’s like you just came off the ice with no gloves,” He hisses, but does nothing to remove said hands. 

“Mm, what can I say, I carry the rink with me wherever I go.” 

Yuuri clicks his teeth and pinches Viktor’s nose briefly. “You’re so cheesy. How does anyone think you’re cool?” 

Viktor ignores his question in favor of more kissing, pressing their lips together fervently. 

And they kiss and kiss and kiss. 

They kiss until Yuuri’s lips are swollen and throbbing, vague arousal stirring in his gut. Viktor’s lips now shine with saliva instead of popcorn grease, and Yuuri cringes, wiping away the spit on his chin with a grimace. 

“Sorry I’m so messy,” He apologizes, pressing a more chaste kiss to Viktor’s cheek. 

“It’s okay, my love, not everyone can be as perfect as me.” 

All Yuuri’s teeth seem to be doing tonight are clicking together, and he slaps Viktor’s bare shoulder. 

“Shut up and watch your stupid dragon movie.” 

“Yes, dear.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> constructive criticism welcome!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How did it happen that their lips came together? How does it happen that birds sing, that snow melts, that the rose unfolds, that the dawn whitens behind the stark shapes of trees on the quivering summit of the hill? A kiss, and all was said.” ― Victor Hugo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as usual, have not beta'd

“Yuuri,” Viktor purrs,  “let’s go to the beach.” 

Yuuri wiggles a little as Viktor’s arms wrap themselves around his apron covered waist. The arms don’t much impede his ability to wash the rice in front of him so he lets it happen.   
“Did you have a particular beach in mind?” He asks, while pouring water over the rice. 

“A nice one!” Viktor chirps, nuzzling his nose into Yuuri’s hair. Yuuri rolls his eyes. 

“Oh well that narrows it down to just about all of them.” 

“Please, Yuuri! I’ve never been to a Japanese beach before. C’mon, you’re an island boy aren’t you? Don’t you know all of the best spots?” 

“Technically all of Japan is an island, so every boy an ‘island boy’ as you so nicely put it,” Yuuri points out just to be annoying. Viktor whines like a toddler and lifts Yuuri away from the sink, dangling him almost a foot in the air by his waist. 

“Viktor, put me down.” 

“Please, Yuuri!” 

“Down. Now.” 

“I won’t put you down until you agree to take me to the best beach in all of Japan!” 

Yuuri scoffs. “Despite any illusions you have, you can’t hold me for that long.” Viktor hums annoyingly and waves Yuuri back and forth so that his legs dangle in the air. Yuuri briefly contemplates going limp and letting Viktor carry his full body weight but decides against, predicting that it would end up with both of them on the floor. 

“Fine, you win. Now put me down.” Viktor puts him down gently, then yelps when Yuuri cups his chin with a cold wet hand and pulls him in for a kiss.

* * *

 

“Yuuri, it’s so early.” Viktor whines will pulling on a pair of thin cotton pants. “Look, it’s still dark out!” 

Yuuri slaps Viktor on the ass on his way into the kitchen, where a pot of coffee was bubbling away. Although it was summer, the early mornings were still pretty cool, the cold of the floor seeping through Yuuri’s socks. 

“You asked me to take you to a beach, so I’m taking you to a beach,” Yuuri calls back, pouring the coffee carefully into two thermoses. Having packed last night like he told Viktor to do, and always having been more of a morning person, Yuuri was practically ready to go while Viktor dragged his feet still. 

“What beach could possibly require getting up before…” Viktor pauses to actually check the clock, “before 3:30 am!” 

“Trust me, it’ll be worth it. You can sleep in the car, are you almost ready.” Yuuri slings his bag, with towel and other miscellaneous items over his shoulder, thermoses is hand. 

“Yes,” Viktor replies miserably, trudging into the kitchen. Yuuri hooks his dad’s car keys onto this pinky finger on the way out. 

What Yuuri simply calls a car is more accurately an old Datsun pickup painted a faded cornflower blue. Although clearly aged, the bumpers still shone with meticulous care, evidence that someone loved it very much. Yuuri tosses his and Viktor’s bags into the area meant for leg space and gestures for him to get in. After checking to make sure there was enough gas in the tank and adjusting the mirrors, they pull off. 

Yuuri’s always liked driving although he doesn’t get a chance to do it much anymore, he likes it especially on an empty road. The repetitive pattern of checking the rear mirror, side mirror and ahead of him lull him into a trance like state. He checks out Viktor out of the corner of his eye only to see Viktor looking intently at him. Yuuri doesn’t blush like he probably would have a few months prior.

“I thought you were going to go back to sleep.” Viktor had taken off his shoes immediately after getting in the car, and now dig his sock toes into Yuuri’s left thigh. 

“I’m awake now, and I’ve had coffee. I won’t get tired again till later.” 

Eventually, after 40 or so minutes of driving they reach the coast. Viktor perks up when he sees the darkened shores, rolling the window down to stick his head out a little. 

“We still have some ways to go,” Yuuri says. Viktor hums in acknowledgement but his eyes stay fastened to the crashing waves. The first inklings of daylight are starting to spread across the sky but the sun is nowhere in sight. Yuuri checks the dashboard clock and presses his foot a little harder on the gas. Viktor pulls his body back inside when the whipping wind becomes too much against his cheek. Luckily there’s no one on the road when Yuuri swerves slightly into the adjacent lane, surprised by the unmistakable feel of lips against his jaw. 

“Viktor!” Yuuri chides. He blindly flails out one hand to push Viktor away but Viktor just catches that and presses his lips to that instead, kissing all over his knuckles and the slight webbing in between his fingers. He playfully sucks two fingers into his mouth, tongue swirling around the pads of his finger tips. Yuuri gasps and moans lowly in his throat, then out of the corner of his eye catches the sign for their destination: 5 kilometers away. 

Yuuri pulls his hand away to push a few pieces of Viktor’s hair that had fallen in front of his face behind his ear, then returns his full attention to the road. 

“We’re almost there, five minutes maybe.” 

“This beach better be good, as early as you woke me up,” Viktor grumbles, settling into his seat with arms crossed over his chest. 

Yuuri pulls into a convenient lookout point and puts the truck in park. The beach that they pull up to is nestled in between to short cliffs, and deserted at this hour. The sun has just begun to peak over the distant horizon, partially covered by mountains. The water has settled from the ocean into the shallow grooves on the beach itself, creating wide alternating arcs of dark sand and water reflecting the burnt orange-red of the sun. Yuuri, having seen this magnificent sight quite a few times, chooses to watch Viktor instead. 

His mouth hangs open, eyes wide not wanting to miss a single moment.  _ So cute, how enamored he looks _ , Yuuri thinks to himself, leaning over to kiss Viktor’s cheek. As the sun climbs higher into the sky turning the orange into a faded pink, he grabs Yuuri’s hand and squeezes. Yuuri squeezes back and asks if he likes it. 

“Oh Yuuri, it’s perfect. Thank you for taking me here,  _ thank you _ .” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this one didn't have as much kissing in it, it kind of formed a mind of its own but the prompt was 'car kisses'.
> 
> the beach they went to is called okoshiki beach, here's a link: 
> 
> http://a2.cdn.japantravel.com/photo/16374-96901/1000/photo.jpg


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The kiss intimately relates to the most primitive kind of human contact, which can satisfy all of our needs, like: feeding, enjoying pleasure, tasting, wanting, rejecting, everything we associate with love.”― Mabel Iam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ngl my metaphorical hard-on for yoi has died for the most part, especially with the (imo) disappointing season finale, but i have 6 more ideas planned for this fic and I'm determined not to give up on this like i do on basically everything else. sorry for this half assed chapter, and i'm aware it sounds unfinished but ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

“Viktor, kiss me,” Yuuri coos, head lolling back against the cool window of the taxi. They stare at each other from opposite sides of the beat up leather, cheeks flushed with tequila sunrises and the radiating heat of city summer. Viktor figured their night was going to go something like this after he’d seen Yuuri down a considerable amount of alcohol. Memories of the after party, back when Yuuri and Viktor were just two distantly orbiting satellites in the world of male figure skating, flash through his mind. Yuuri’s giggle brings Viktor out of his thoughts, and he smiles at the drunken man. 

New York is like a dream for them, each from two countries where their type of relationship is frowned upon. Yuuri slides closer to Viktor, pressing their sides together. 

“Viktor, please I want you to kiss me.” Yuuri’s fingers paw clumsily at Viktor, almost poking his eye out. Viktor presses a teasing kiss to his forehead, right above his left eyebrow. 

“Noo, not there, Viktoorrr.” 

Viktor chuckles, “Oh? Where then, here?” A light kiss over his eyelids. “Or maybe here?” A brush of lips over the arch of his cheekbones. “What about here?” Viktor lightly sucks on Yuuri’s bottom lip, but pulls back when Yuuri tries to deepen the kiss 

“Viktor, don’t tease me!” Yuuri’s also a loud drunk, half yelling in Viktor’s ear. Viktor anxiously eyes the cab driver but he looks unfazed, probably used to it. He finally gives in, pressing a solid kiss to Yuuri’s plush lips. Yuuri hums, and pushes up against him, practically in his lap. After a few heated moments, their lips part with a lewd pop. 

“No more till we get back to the hotel, okay?” Yuuri pouts adorably, and Viktor rubs their noses together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> constructive criticism welcome :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I have woken up…quite sloshed  
> from night-mingled rains  
> a little drugged, by mountain fogs  
> I have been kidnapped  
> for years....by a mere kiss.”   
> ― Sanober Khan, A Thousand Flamingos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i picture this happening maybe right after the grand prix, so theyre still in barcelona. the prompt for this one was public/private kisses but I'm lazy and liked this ending so I just did public :)

Sophia watches him out of the corner of her eye, can’t help but fangirl a little but c’mon, it’s  _ Viktor Nikiforov _ . She used to skate when she was younger, but then puberty hit and her body changed in ways she couldn’t control. She refused to be one of those athletes who went to extreme measures to maintain the “perfect body” so she quit, choosing to follow the sport as an avid fan instead. 

Nikiforov is in his usual coaching get up of an expensive, tailored suit with a long wool coat and supple leather gloves. Everything in Sophia is screaming to go up to him and maybe ask for a picture or an autograph but Nikiforov’s body language alone gives off  _ do not approach  _ vibes. His posture is the stiff straight back of figure skaters and ballet dancers alike, his face a cold mask. Sophia has always thought that Nikiforov was beautiful–who didn’t–but seeing him up close in person, his almost alien beauty creates a hard shell of aloofness. As if sensing eyes on him, Nikiforov looks up and makes eye contact with Sophia, who squeaks and looks away, blushing.  _ I’m such an idiot staring at him like that _ , she thinks to herself. She turns to the wall and bangs her head softly against the plaster,  _ idiot, idiot, idiot _ . Someone to her right clears their throat and Sophia looks up to see Nikiforov suddenly a lot closer than he was a few seconds ago. 

“Would you like to take a picture with me?” He asks bluntly. His voice is deeper than Sophia expected, English only slightly accented by. 

“I–I … um?” Sophia stutters stupidly. Nikiforov unfolds one graceful hand, like royalty expecting her to kiss his knuckles, and for a moment she almost did. Then Sophia realizes that with his palm turned upwards he’s asking for her phone. She scrambles to grab it out of her back pocket and gives it to him. He pulls of a glove and opens the camera. Sophia inches nervously towards him but he pulls her closer until she’s pressed up against his side, angling the camera slightly above eye level and taking a few pictures. 

In the screen of the phone, Sophia can see Nikiforov’s smile. While not unkind, it’s most decidedly fake, the same kind of smile he put on after winning another gold medal, the same smile that looked out on his adoring fans from the winners podium. The phone shuts off with a click, and he hands it back to her. 

“Thank you so much!” Sophia manages to squeak out. 

“Sure.” 

“Viktor!” A new, familiar voice calls out. Nikiforov turns towards the voice and his whole demeanor just … softens. The tightness in his muscles and face just melts away at the sight of Katsuki Yuuri. Nikiforov reaches a hand out towards Yuuri, who reaches his right hand out in return, the glint of gold on his finger unmistakable. Nikiforov pulls the hand to his lips, just resting there for a moment. Sophia blushes even harder at the intimate exchange between the two athletes. 

“Ready to go, my love?” 

“Yup!” Nikiforov and Yuuri start to head towards the exit, but Nikiforov stops and like an afterthought turns back to Sophia. 

“Have a good evening.” His smile is smaller, gentler and a lot more genuine. Sophia can’t help but smile back, feeling that she had just seen a side of Nikiforov that not many people were lucky enough to witness. 

“You too!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> constructive criticism welcome :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Give me a kiss, and to that kiss a score; Then to that twenty, add a hundred more: A thousand to that hundred: so kiss on, To make that thousand up a million. Treble that million, and when that is done, Let's kiss afresh, as when we first begun."-Robert Herrick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it's been literally almost a month since the last update, my computer broke and it took a while to get it fixed but i'm back. however, school starts tomorrow and i will be busy but I'll try to update as frequently as i can. I only have four more chapters left planned after this one. 
> 
> also as usual, did not read over, please point out any mistakes

Yuuri whines a little as he’s woken by the feeling of lips on his face. 

“Nooo,” He moans, curling onto his right side. One eye cracks open to check the time on his phone: 6:37 am. Yuuri jerks up in the bed, dislodging the body on top of him then smacks said body with the pillow that was previously under his head. 

“Viktor! What the hell, it’s not even 7! Today’s my day off, you … you …” With a disgusted noise, Yuuri yanks the covers over his body hard enough to pull them completely off of Viktor. Viktor, however, takes his bad mood in stride, simply giggling and wrapping his arms around the lump of blanket-Yuuri. 

“Haha, I’m sorry, my love, I didn’t mean to wake you. You’re just so cute when you sleep I couldn’t resist~.” The blanket pulls taught as Viktor’s hands search for a way under it, but Yuuri has the edges firmly pinned under his arms and legs. 

“Come out Yuuri, you can still go back to sleep! I’ll just lay here and look at your beautiful face,” Viktor teases. Yuuri flings the covers back off and faces Viktor, nose to nose. 

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere, Viktor Nikiforov. You know,  _ you know _ I can’t go back to sleep in the morning once I’ve gotten up.”  

“You say flattery won’t get me anywhere, but it got you to come out didn’t it?” Yuuri valiantly tries to maintain his angry expression but, realizing he’s been played, collapses into a fit of giggles. He flops back onto the bed, his growing black hair spreading out across the pillow. 

“I fucking, hahaha, I f-fucking hate you, Viktor.” Viktor laughs along with him, then lays down on top of him, chin digging right in between Yuuri’s left and right pec. He wriggles his arms under Yuuri’s torso, hugging his ribs with long fingers and leans up a little to press his chin. 

“Good morning, Yuuri.” Yuuri rolls his eyes with a sigh, then in turn wraps his arms around Viktor’s cotton clad shoulders. 

“Good morning, Viktor.” 

* * *

 

Yuuri comes into the apartment as quietly as he can, turning the knob as the door shuts so not even the schnick of the lock slotting into place will make a sound. The apartment is dark save for the flickering glow of the TV screen in the living room. Yuuri toes his shoes off and nudges them into a row with the others. Then he puts his bag in their large coat closet. His socked feed barely make a sound as he creeps over to the living room to see Viktor sprawled out on the couch with Makkachin sleeping at his feet. Makkachin barks once as the presence of someone else in the apartment, head lifting off of her front paws. 

“Shh, girl, it’s okay, it’s just me.” Yuuri kneels to give her a few calming strokes, then takes in Viktor’s prone form. A spot of drool glistens at the corner of his mouth and his hair sticks out every which way.  _ You didn’t have to wait up for me _ , Yuuri thinks fondly. Knowing that the couch will kill Viktor’s back, Yuuri quickly devises a plan to get him in bed. Viktor’s already in pajamas, thank god, so all Yuuri has to do is physically get him in the bed. 

His knees creak a little as he stands back up. Yuuri goes to open their bedroom door and pull back the covers, then back to the living room to get Viktor. He scoots one arm under Viktor’s shoulders and the other under his knees. Viktor’s always been a heavy sleeper so he doesn’t wake at the arms around him but he does unconsciously loop his arms around Yuuri’s neck. The logistics of carrying someone who’s taller than you are a little tricky, but Yuuri manages to make it to their bedroom without any bumped heads. He lowers Viktor onto his side of the bed but Viktor refuses to let go. Yuuri can’t help but smile at his cute pout, and presses a kiss to his forehead. He reaches up behind his own neck and easily breaks the sleepy hold Viktor has on him. Yuuri pulls the covers up around him and whispers a soft  _ goodnight _ before getting ready for bed himself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> constructive criticism welcome :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “My mind is being consumed by you.  
> My body is longing for you.  
> Just one touch or a kiss,  
> And I shall be satiated for a thousand years.” 
> 
> ― Kamand Kojouri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shiftily eyes the date ... hey guys ... what's up (just drops this off like it hasn't been 8 months or anything). I would say I'm sorry but im not really that sorry, mostly disappointed in myself that it took so long to whip myself into shape and start writing again. Anyway, have this nearly 2,000 word chapter as an apology with (hopefully) more to come. No promises though. Please point out any mistakes, grammar, foreign language or other wise.
> 
> edit, 10/8/18: holy crap i only just now realized that something glitched and ao3 only posted less than half of the chapter... whelp... now it's actually 2000 words i guess, fml

“Do you have to go to America?” Viktor pouts, flopping over the clothes Yuuri is currently folding. Yuuri smacks him with the t-shirt in his hand.

“Get off. And don’t be a baby, it’s only for a few days. I haven’t seen my friends in Detroit for so long, I’m way overdue for a visit.”

“But, Yuuri!” He whines, rolling morosely onto the carpeted floor and taking a few articles of clothing with him. He groans and rolls around on the floor like a proper toddler but Yuuri simply ignores him and continues to pack his clothes. Detroit weather is finicky in May, some days could be as warm as 15 degrees and others as cold as -1 so he makes sure to pack a decent variety of clothes. Makkachin trots over to Viktor, takes one look at him, then carelessly lays her heavy body across his prone form. Viktor then groans for a different reason.

“Makkachin, get off, you’re too heavy.” Makkachin simply sticks her wet nose into Viktor’s cheek, chuffing right in his ear. Yuuri giggles as he steps over them to get a pair of shoes.

“Yuuri, help,” Viktor pleads. “She’s going to crush me!”

“Don’t be so dramatic, she can’t be more than 60 pounds.” Despite his words, Yuuri straddles Viktor’s hips and scoops his arms up under the poodle’s torso to lift her up. Standing on her hind paws Makkachin is almost as tall as Yuuri, and her head is easily level with his face. She wiggles around in his arms, happily taking advantage of this fact and licking a wet kiss right over Yuuri’s mouth.

“Ugh, you need a breath mint Makkachin.” He lets her down in the direction of the door. “Either help me pack or get out of the way, Viktor,” Yuuri says.

Viktor sniffs as he leverages himself up off the floor. “You’re such a cruel lover,” He laments. Yuuri grabs his jaw in one hand and pulls him in for a kiss.

“It’s only two weeks Viktor, I’ll be back for you know it. I even bought that outrageously priced international service so we could talk everyday.” Viktor wraps his arms around Yuuri’s waist, pressing them together.

“I love you,” Viktor says.

“I love you, too,” Yuuri replies. “Now, the gray or the blue?” He asks, holding up two sweatshirts.

* * *

 

 _Two weeks isn’t that long_ , Yuuri thinks to himself as he settles into his plane seat. Having just signed the deal with a new sponsor, he’d decided to splurge a little and buy a seat in the business section as oppose to his usual economy, so there was only one other seat next to his, with plenty leg and seat room. Yuuri tucks his backpack under the seat and shoves his carry-on into the overhead compartment. He checks the time, 20 minutes till take-off, and settles in for the ride. Not many flights go directly from St. Petersburg to Detroit so he has a layover in New York. Flight attendants and other riders shuffle around the cabin as more people file in, noise at a quiet murmur. After the plane takes off and the flight attendants make their primary rounds with offers of snacks, Yuuri decides to sleep to pass the time.

Some time later, Yuuri wakes up confused as to where he is.

“Mm, Vitya?” His voice is gravelly with sleep as his head rolls to face the seat next to him, eyes still closed.

In a voice that is most decidedly not Viktor’s, the person responds, “ _Otkuda ty znayesh' moye imya_ ?” _How do you know my name?_

Yuuri’s eyes pop open to see an elderly Russian man peering curiously at Yuuri. Embarrassed, a blush rises quickly to his cheeks.

“ _Oh, um … izvinite, uh, ya dumal, chto ty kogo-to, um, yeshche…_ ” Yuuri stutters in poor Russian. _Sorry, I thought you were someone else_.

“English?” The man asks gruffly.

“Oh yes, I speak English.”

“Vitya is a friend of yours, yes?” Yuuri mouth twitches at the corners as he thinks of Viktor, who is probably back at the apartment still bemoaning Yuuri’s departure to a sympathetic Makkachin.

“Yes, he’s my,” Yuuri pauses, thoughtfully, “friend.”

“A very good _friend_ , by your expression.” The man’s eyes glitter knowingly as he flashes a row of bright teeth beneath his thick beard. _Am I that obvious_ , Yuuri thinks to himself; _also, what are the chances that I’d be sitting next to someone also named Viktor_?

The pilot announces that they’ll be touching down in about an hour, and that it was 5pm and a comfortable 70 degrees. Yuuri leans over and whispers, “What is that in Celsius?”

The man snorts, “Hell if I know, Fahrenheit makes no sense.”

Yuuri’s layover and flight to Detroit pass without much fanfare, and before he knows it he’s rolling his luggage outside to find a taxi. He turns off airplane mode and texts Viktor to let him know he’s made it.

 

_Okay, have fun Yuuri!_

 

Yuuri checks in to his hotel, then also sends texts to his friends to let them know he’s arrived. Immediately he gets a call back from James. He rolls his eyes but picks up.

“Why can’t you just text back like a normal person?” Yuuri whines petulantly. “You know I don’t like talking on the phone.”

“You’re such a millennial,” James snorts, “What’s wrong with calling, _watashi wa anata no koe no oto ga sukidesu_ ,” He coos teasingly. _I like the sound of your voice_.

“Ahaha, you’re Japanese has gotten much better! And my English sounds terrible.”

“Oh please, after five years in the U.S as an internationally competing skater no less? Your English is flawless!”

“Pff, I wish. Who decided to make English such a hard language?”

“Hey, Japanese is just as hard,” James points out.

“ _Anyway_. So I just got in and I’m pretty tired so I’m probably going go to sleep but are you free tomorrow?”

“Yup! Oh wait Emily and Tyler just came over lemme ask them too.” Then Yuuri hears some yelling in the background. He smiles to himself as he puts the phone on speaker so he can put it down to unpack, it really has been too long since he’s talked with his American friends. James was the first friend he made when he came to Detroit, having been his roommate freshman year. James was struggling in Japanese and Yuuri was struggling in English so they decided to help each other out and the rest was history.

“Okay I’m back. They said they can come if we do dinner.”

“Green Dot?” Yuuri suggests.

“Ugh, yes, I’ve been craving their sliders for so long but haven’t had the chance to swing by. So Green Dot tomorrow at, mm, 7?”

“7 is good, see you tomorrow.”

“See ya tomorrow. Man, I’m so excited, I missed seeing your face!”

Yuuri laughs. “I missed you guys too!”

“Anyway, see ya tomorrow.”

“Yeah, see you.” Yuuri lets James hang up as he puts the last of his clothes into the drawers. _I’ll take a shower, then facetime Viktor_ . Yuuri makes sure to connect to the hotel wifi, then plays one of the playlists that Viktor had made for him. Nowadays he and Viktor shower apart more than they shower together but this shower still feels abnormally large and empty. Suddenly his phone starts ringing;

_ Viktor would like to facetime _ . Yuuri picks up. 

“Viktor hold on, okay, I’m in the shower.” 

“Mm, that’s no problem, the view is more than welcome,” He hums. 

“Yeah well I don’t want to wreck my phone so your peep show will have to wait.” Yuuri has never been one to linger in the shower, so he’s in and out in under five minutes. He puts in the phone on the sink, angling it so Viktor can still see him although the underside of his jaw isn’t much of a view. 

“How was your flight?” Yuuri blushes as he reaches for the lotion, remembering his embarrassing encounter with the other Viktor. 

“F-fine.” 

“Oh? I know that tone of voice, Yuuri~, something did happen didn’t–.” 

“Nothing happened!” Yuuri cut him off quickly. “I just slept is all.” Maybe it’s stupid but admitting that he had missed Viktor after a few hours felt like weakness, even knowing that Viktor misses him just as much. “I called James and me, him and a few other friends are going out for dinner tomorrow. Other than that I don’t have any plans.” 

“Sounds like fun. I have to go walk Makkachin, she’s been staring holes into the back of my head for the last fifteen minutes but I’ll call you later okay?”

“Okay, love you.” 

“I love you to,  _ luchik _ .” Even though Yuuri slept on the plane the jet-lag is catching up to him and he’s starting to feel tired. He changes into pajamas and gets into bed. For the first half hour he scrolls through his various social media, liking Phichit’s newest photo on Instagram and responding to some fans on Twitter. Another half hour is spent staring at the backs of his eyelids, but unfortunately still awake. He shifts onto his side, restless but this position is no better and he spends another twenty minutes just lying there wishing for sleep to come. 

Yuuri’s eyes burn and feel heavy with sleep but every time he starts to drift off his body jerks him back awake. The clock on the bedside table reads 12:36. He flings an arm out to pull Viktor closer to him, then suddenly remembers that he’s not at home but in a hotel in Detroit. Yuuri lets out a frustrated whine, crumpling the sheets in his fingers. Eventually though, he does fall into a fitful sleep. 

Two weeks passes all too quickly and at the same time not fast enough. Eventually his body relearns how to sleep alone but his rest is unsatisfying at best. Despite having lived in Detroit for a good few years, he still insists on going out and doing all the touristy stuff, dragging his friends along with him. Viktor facetimes often, happily updating him on his and Makkachin’s day. His last day in Detroit is no different, Viktor’s pixelated face perched on top of Yuuri’s comforter as he folds and packs his clothes. 

“I can’t wait to see you!” Viktor says, leaning into the camera so that his face takes up almost the whole frame. “I miss you,” He coos, “And so does Makkachin! Yurio won’t admit it but he misses you as well. He found a new pirozhki recipe that he wants you to try.” 

“Tell Makkachin and Yurio that I miss them too,” Yuuri teases, making sure to wrap the breakable souvenirs he god everyone extra well before wedging them in between two piles of clothes so they wouldn’t get jostled around. 

“Hey!” 

“Ahaha, you know I’m just messing with you, Vitya, I miss you too, very very much.” Yuuri checks the time and makes a face. “Ugh, I have to go now Viktor. Curse these early international flights.”

Viktor sighs, “Alright my love, get some sleep, we’ll be together again before you know it.” 

“Goodnight, Vitenka.” 

“Goodnight–Oh!” Viktor gasps as if he’s just had the best idea. “Before you go, give me a kiss!” 

“How am I supposed to do that when we’re thousands of miles apart?” 

“Through the computer silly!” 

“You’re the silly one if you think I’m going to kiss my computer.” 

“Please Yuuri! I miss those soft lips.” 

“Well it’s not exactly like you can feel them through the screen, now can you?” Yuuri puts his hands on his hips and fixes Viktor with a look that’s partially exasperated but mostly fond. 

“It’s the thought that counts! Please Yuuri, I thought you loved me.” Yuuri’s chest swells with affection at the sound of Viktor’s pleading voice, and he sighs. 

“If you ever, and I mean  _ ever _ , tell anyone that I kissed a computer screen I will end you Viktor Nikiforov.” And with that, Yuuri leans forward and gently, almost as if he was kissing Viktor himself, presses his lips over the circular hole of the camera. When he pulls back, Viktor’s cheeks are pleasantly flushed and his lips are curled into a soft smile. 

“I’ll see you soon my love,” Yuuri murmurs, heart aching despite the truth to the words that they would be together again in less than 24 hours. 

“See you soon. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> funnily enough, this drabble was inspired by the song 'kiss me thru the phone' by soulja boy. 
> 
> constructive criticism welcome :)


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There are as many kinds of kisses as there are people on earth, as there are permutations and combinations of those people. No two people kiss alike—no two people fuck alike—but somehow the kiss is more personal, more individualized than the fuck.” ― Diane di Prima, Memoirs of a Beatnik

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> clearly I should just stop making promises. anyway, just take this fucking this I'm tired of looking at it. 
> 
> the song is be my baby by ariana grande which I recommend you listen to at the line "the song changes" :)

Yuuri has a habit of dancing while he cooks that Viktor finds adorable until it’s … a little more than that. He watches from the entryway as Yuuri sways his hips to the playfully sensual song floating through his phone speakers. He adds a few more spices to the stew before he’s satisfied, lowering the fire to simmer and stirring it a few times before covering the pot with a lid. Yuuri wiggles his way across the kitchen to finish chopping up the rest of the vegetables and dumping them into a heated skillet. They sizzle lightly. Viktor bites down on a smile as Yuuri really gets into the song, singing the lyrics and running his hands up and down his sides. Having had enough, Viktor decides to join him, slotting in neatly behind him. 

Yuuri hums happily, covering the hands Viktor’s placed on his hips with his own. “You’re home.” 

“Yes I am.” Viktor’s voice has gone deep with desire, and he presses his nose to the side of Yuuri’s neck, playfully kissing the skin there. “You look good enough to eat, my love, are you sure I can’t have you for dinner instead?” 

Yuuri giggles as they sway together, “That was so cheesy, have you actually ever gotten anyone with that line?” 

“A few,” he replies, amused. Yuuri reaches forward to stir the vegetables a little bit. The song changes, and he gasps lowly. He takes the pan off the stove and turns to face Viktor, pushing him back slowly. 

“What are you up to,  _ Yuuri _ ,” Viktor purrs. Mischief shines in Yuuri’s eyes as he forces Viktor to sit at one of their dining room tables. He backs up and reaches for his phone to restart the song.

“Just sit back and enjoy the show,” Yuuri says with a wink. A woman that Viktor doesn’t recognize begins to sing out:  _ If you know how to be my lover, maybe you can be my baby. _

The song isn’t inherently sexual but something about the lyrics paired with the song and the woman’s pitch adds a bit of an edge. Once again Yuuri’s hips begin to sway as he makes his way over towards Viktor. By the time the song gets to the first verse, Yuuri’s standing over him, legs straddling his thighs but barely touching him. Yuuri writhes above him and Viktor can do nothing but stare, breathless, as Yuuri’s hands run themselves all over his body as if they were Viktor’s own. They pull at his shirt and through his hair, stroking the tops of his thighs as he sticks his ass out slightly. Finally, when Viktor feels like he’s going to explode, Yuuri’s hands come down to cup his face leaning down as if to kiss him, only to cheekily bite his bottom lip before pulling away. 

_ Hold me close under the covers, kiss me boy and drive me crazy _ , the woman sings, as Yuuri pulls his shirt over his head. They’re so close that the cotton brushes his face as it leaves Yuuri’s body. He tosses it carelessly to the floor. Viktor can just feel the beginnings of Yuuri getting hard brushing against his stomach and chest, and he feels paralysed by the immense beauty of the person dancing above him. Yuuri’s hands drift up over his shoulders and come to rest on his neck, fingertips teasing the fine hair at the edge of his hairline. His hips sway absently as he brings his lips centimeters away from Viktor’s, mouthing the words to the song.  _ Be my, be my, be my baby, and drive me crazy _ . 

They’re so close that Viktor can feel the breath of Yuuri’s words on his own lips and he cranes his neck up to encourage Yuuri to kiss him fully but Yuuri pulls back with a coy smile. As the song comes to a close, he pulls away completely to stir the vegetables some more. Viktor’s pants have become uncomfortably tight but he can read the look in Yuuri’s eyes:  _ you’ll get more later _ . With a rueful smile, he lifts himself out of the chair and returns to his original position with his hands around Yuuri’s waist. 

“You’re such a tease,” He murmurs huskily. 

“Oh Viktor,” Yuuri replies, “you’re just so easy to rile up.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> constructive criticism welcome :)


	12. unfinished business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> here are the two quotes (poems) that I was going to use for the final two chapters that i've accepted that I'm just never going to write. let ur imagination run wild.

since feeling is first

who pays any attention

to the syntax of things

will never wholly kiss you;

 

wholly to be a fool

while Spring is in the world

 

my blood approves,

and kisses are a far better fate

than wisdom

lady i swear by all flowers. Don't cry

\--the best gesture of my brain is less than

your eyelids' flutter which says

 

we are for eachother: then

laugh, leaning back in my arms

for life's not a paragraph

 

And death i think is no parenthesis”

― **E.E. Cummings**

* * *

 

“in the afterglow

of an evening rain

 

i lay down

in the grass

and think of you

 

my body aches

like an after-kiss

 

breaking in soft fires

and wildflowers

 

my dear,

i will always be

this tender for you.”

― **Sanober Khan** , **A Thousand Flamingos**

**Author's Note:**

> translations-  
> arigato: thank you  
> Пожалуйста, счастье: you're welcome, happiness (i know this sounds weird in english but i'm pretty sure happiness is a common term of endearment in russian. @anyone who is fluent in the language please correct me if I'm wrong!)
> 
> constructive criticism welcome!


End file.
